


Hating You Is Not Easy

by merllaurence



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Self-Reflection, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merllaurence/pseuds/merllaurence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short one-shot of Bellamy's thoughts on Clarke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hating You Is Not Easy

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”  
\- Martin Luther King Jr.

 

* * *

  
  


Bellamy tries to maintain his dislike, his hatred of Clarke and her idealist principles and it seems that his efforts are mostly in vain. Here on earth, rediscovered, there's almost no room for it, he justifies. The ground is savage and strange, with mutated animals, inclement weather and the Grounders.

 

Survival takes precedence in this harsh new world he thinks. No, _knows_ and all that Bellamy is trying to do is to help them all survive. Ironically, they've all had to become savages themselves in order to do so.

 

He told them to follow him, and they did. Most of them anyway.

 

He told them to make weapons, and they did. In hindsight, he thinks of Charlotte, Wells and Murphy and knows he should have been more adamant that they not use the weapons against each other but just against the environment and Grounders instead.

 

He got them to build a wall, and they did. Too bad the storm took most of it down and now they have to start all over again.

 

He told them they had to protect themselves, and they did. There's a Grounder tied up in the Drop-ship to prove that.

 

You would think Clarke would be thankful for what he's done. And yet, the way she watches and looks at him unnerves and irritates him to no end. Like she's expecting _something_. It's not like she's judging him in anyway, anymore. Bellamy's learned long ago that the pointed looks carry a hint of something else now.

 

Its like she sees so much and expects so much more. Bellamy wants – no, _needs_ to hate Clarke, needs to keep his distance, but can't. Especially after what they had just done to the Grounder, because the guilt and shame of having to do what he just did isn't something he'll soon forget. But something tugs, pulls deep inside him to rise up and be who Clarke thinks he is. Who she thinks she sees he can be.

 

And fuck him, but he wants to somehow try.

 

Bellamy ends up hating himself for wanting to. And he hates himself even more for not being able to keep away from her. Because he's always looking for her in the camp, gravitating towards her unintentionally.

 

The earth is challenging and they're doing their best to survive in the darkness of their struggle that they've found themselves thrust into. But every day here on the earth he reminds himself, there's sunshine, bright and warm and comforting and Bellamy can't help but associate Clarke with that lightness. A part of him, he's realizing wants to constantly bathe in that light.

 

And it terrifies him because he can't let that happen. Not with Octavia to protect, despite how much she hates him right now. Not with the remainders of the one-hundred, looking to him for leadership.

 

Bellamy can't afford to be distracted. Not ever. But there's only so many times he can ignore the tightening in his chest and the itch to touch Clarke everytime he's around her.

 

It would just be so much easier if he could just hate her.

 

 

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been away from fan-fiction for a while, but something about this show had me pulling my muse out of retirement and dusting off the cobwebs. I wrote a bunch of fic for this fandom and posted them on another site, but I will be gradually posting to AO3 too. Thank you so much for reading and let me know what you all think!


End file.
